


Laundry Day

by sayasamax3



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Genderqueer Character, Laundry, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3160034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayasamax3/pseuds/sayasamax3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone’s red unmentionables end up in the whites wash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day

“Oooh Fumikiiii, there’s something I need to ask youuuu!”

The saccharine tone of Hamada’s voice is positively  _poisonous_ , and Mizutani has to admit he’s not used to feeling primordial fear at the sound of the older man’s voice. 

From behind their magazine, Izumi laughs and looks over the pages at Mizutani’s scared stiff form with amused eyes.  “Someone’s in the doghouse tonight,” they say, before dropping their gaze back down to the glossy pages.

Mizutani tries to think of what exactly he could’ve done to make Hamada angry, and fails entirely to do so before Hamada comes into the bedroom, balancing a basket of freshly laundered clothes on his hip.

Specifically, freshly laundered clothes all bearing a damning, damnable pink taint.

“Fumiki,” Hamada asks, his free hand going into his sweat pant’s pocket.  Mizutani experiences the moment in slow-motion, watching in abject horror as Hamada pulls a very familiar pair of red boxer briefs from his pocket.  “Guess what I found in with the whites today?  Or, the pinks now.”

Izumi peeks out from behind their magazine once more, eyeing the laundry as they quip, “I kinda like that shade.”

“Not the time Kousuke,” Hamada mutters, before rounding on Mizutani once more.  “C’mon Fumiki, is it  _really_  that hard to keep your brights out of the whites basket?”

Mizutani considers saying that, well, the baskets  _are_  a bit close together, but the fact that he’s made Hamada’s weekend chores  _that_  much more difficult makes him think twice about joking around for now.

Instead he opts for puppy dog eyes and a voice full of contrition as he says, “I really didn’t mean to and I’m sorry?  I’ll help with, uh, something, to make up for it!”

Hamada’s forgiveness comes with a sigh and the softening of his expression into something a bit more fond. 

“It’s alright,” He says, dropping the offending briefs in the basket so he can reach out and pat Mizutani’s head, “And the help would be nice.  I’m going to put in another load, you two go pin these up.”

Izumi startles, dropping their magazine, but doesn’t bother to protest.  Instead they grumble “You  _owe_  me, Fumiki,” as they roll out of bed.

But Izumi kisses his cheek on the way to the door, and Hamada gives him a one-armed hug, and all of that feels a lot like the promise of a very comfortable Sunday morning. 


End file.
